Jerome Valeska OS,SS
by StallingInWonderland
Summary: Jerome Valeska. A crazed, psychotic killer with nothing in his mind but chaos? An attractive, murdering psychopath who just needs someone to love him? Whatever you think about him, he's the man who we'd all move to Gotham for and bow down at his feet. "Hang on to your hats, folks, 'cause you ain't seen nothing yet!" - Jerome Valeska one-shots and short stories.
1. King and Queen of Gotham

**A/N**

 **Before we start, I'm really sorry for the spacing, paragraph separations, etc. It's my first time posting on here and I'm trying to figure all the editing out.**

 **...**

Wandering through the back alleys of Gotham, keeping just far enough in the shadows to keep yourself hidden, you mumble to yourself.

You shy away not because of who you are, because **that** is nothing to be shy about. You're the pretty Princess of Gotham. All sunshine and rainbows. The great Detective James Gordon's little orphaned niece. Mummy and Daddy hacked up by a crazed killer; Jamesy just the man to step up to the plate. Butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, not in the eyes of the public. They don't know you. None of them do. Not even good ole uncle.

No, you shy away because tonight is the dreaded night. The one night a year where you are reminded of how alone with your own thoughts you are. Reminded that no one knows the real you; no one cares enough to know what you're thinking. The only way you're getting heart-shaped chocolates is if you nick them off some googly-eyed couple. You're not buying yourself some. That's just sad.

Yes, it was Valentine's Day, or night to be more accurate. The streets were lined with sickeningly sweet couples holding hands, gazing into each other's eyes, holding gigantic teddies and bouquets. Yuck. That definitely wasn't what you wanted for yourself, but you still had a small trace of a beating heart which pined for someone who understood it; who would accept it wholeheartedly.

You stalked the shadows, dressed to kill in your red plunge dress and heels. You'd be stopping by the GCPD office later for their annual 'Red Hearts Bash'. You'd find someone to take home with you there; all of the officers loving the thrill of sneaking around with Jim's 'daughter'. You had never been bothered to tell each one they weren't the first; they were more than happy keeping schtum, thinking they were your dirty little secret.

Grabbing a ribbon-tied box from a passerby's hands, you stuffed a handful of the chocolates inside into your mouth; they didn't even bother to notice they were one box down.

"Mn-Sho fūckin' shpoiled." You managed to spit out amongst a mouthful of caramel hearts as you kept on wandering.

Dropping the empty trays amongst the other junk scattered about you stood opposite Police Headquarters, staring up at the large gothic building.

"Such a beautiful building. Such a waste for it to be burned to the ground. Sucks to be you, 'Daddy'." You spoke lowly to yourself as you flicked the small lighter you kept in your bag on and off, on and off.

You were so caught up in your racing thoughts, mentally counting the days until this particular plan came into effect, that you failed to notice the presence behind you.

"Mm, I'm not sure how I feel about you calling anyone but me 'Daddy'." A cold breath gilded over your shoulder, making you shiver as the voice rang clear from behind you.

As quick as a flash you swung your right arm backwards, aiming to knock whoever this was away and give you time to reposition yourself.

No such luck.

A strong arm caught yours easily, predicting your reaction, and bending it up your back. A warm body pressed fully into you from behind, your arm caught between you both. A faint trace of mint wafted over you from lips which were grazing your ear.

"Now, now, little girl. Quit struggling. Wouldn't want Gotham's Princess ending up in that beautiful building's morgue now, would we?" He growled out, increasing the pressure on your arm as he done so.

"Hmph, who the fūck are you? What do you want?" You growled out through gritted teeth.

"Oh, ya know, the usual things. Forty-seven million dollars, a helicopter, obviously, a pony, and a big ole house filled with babies and a white picket fence. Oh no wait, that last one's yours, right beautiful?"

"You don't fūcking know me. I don't want that shit."

"Hahahahaha." A loud laugh burst from his lips, bringing a smile to your lips.

"No, no, no, no. You want more, right, baby girl? You want that building to go down in flames. You want to cause.. hm.. chaos. Right?" He murmured into your ear, each word caressing your mind.

"I don't **want** to cause chaos; I will cause chaos."

Your stance became controlled... cold. You stopped struggling. You stared straight at the brick wall you were held against, a dark chuckle escaping your mouth.

"They're all going to know me. Fear me. Tell their grandchildren all about me."

"Yessss. I like how you think, baby girl." He squealed with delight. "Gotham's perfect Princess no more. You could be great – **we** could be great! Me and you; Gotham's King and Queen. We'll leave our mark on this city. Spread across it like a virus."

His breath panted over your collar bone as he steadied himself against you, his free hand grabbing your waist. His other arm loosening its hold as he leaned in to nibble lightly on your neck.

Your heartbeat raced as you processed what he was saying.

He was like you. Thought **just** like you. Wanted you.

You vaguely recognised the voice encompassing all of your thoughts, but couldn't quite place it.

Did it matter who this was? What they'd done? _You've probably done worse_. What they looked like? _Not when they make you feel this powerful._

"Fūck it. You're on, baby." You happily grinned and twisted your head round as best you could.

"Now, how about you let me see who I'll be ruling this dump with?" With a roll of your hips you had him grunting in agreement.

"Mm-hm. Do that again and we'll see." He groaned into your neck, peppering kisses down one side.

You smirked and twisted your body around, using his loosened hold to your advantage.

"Well, hello there."

Your small piece of heart that wasn't black beat hard and fast as you tilted your head up to take in his deep green eyes, seemingly sparkling with mischief and laughter, his plump pink lips which were opened slightly as warm pants left them, and his tousled ginger hair, darker in the dim light, messily styled bar one piece which flopped forward over his pale forehead.

He gazed back at your similarly warm face, glancing down at your lips every few seconds.

"Hello, gorgeous. I'm Jerome."

With his introduction made -as if you needed it now you'd seen who it was- and with yours also being a household name, he grinned and swooped down to capture your lips. His cold mouth pressed hungrily against yours, his body pressing into you fully as he deepened the kiss. You backed up into the wall, hitching your leg over his hip as your tongue done battle for dominance. His cold hand leisurely stroked your thigh as he ground his hips against yours, eliciting a moan from you both.

You broke away from one another and locked gazes, your foreheads resting against each other's as you both tried to catch your breath.

"Mm. You're bad." He giggled huskily as his eyes roamed your face.

"Hahahaha." You broke into laughter, him watching you, grinning.

"You're the first person to ever see it, Jerome." You rolled his name out slowly, caressing each syllable.

You slowly unwound your leg from his waist, grinning as you playfully nudged past him. Retrieving your long forgotten fallen clutch you lit up a cigarette. You made your way to the edge of the shadows, signalling the end of the alley, blowing swirls of smoke from your lips as you went. Looking back over your shoulder you grinned at the maniac wearing a Cheshire Cat smile as he leaned against the brick wall you were previously pressed up against.

"So, Valeska, will you be my Valentine?" You quirked an eyebrow in his direction before making your way across the street, without waiting on an answer, a spring in your step as you done so. A smug smile remained on your face as you climbed the stone steps, a chorus of manic laughter following you as you went.

 **...**

Entering the GCPD you fixed your assets into their rightful places, making sure you didn't look too disheveled, and popped a few mints to hide the cigarette scent that lingered. You made your way through throngs of men and woman who all just had to stop you to say hi, enquire after your wellbeing and just casually mention how wonderful it would be to work a case with dear adopted-daddy.

 _Vultures. Absolute vultures, the lot of them. Circling, just waiting for their opportune moment to feast._

You eventually made it through to Jim and Harvey. Lee stood smack bang beside Jim, his arm held in her vice grip.

You groaned internally. How clingy. _Gives all us females a bad name_.

"Heeyyy, Dad." You brightly called out, plastering a cheesy smile on your face, and reached up to peck his cheek.

"Any Valentine's this evening?" You wiggled your eyebrows up and down, ignoring Lee's glare entirely.

What? She wasn't the only woman Jim had eyes for and she should know it.

"Heh, one or two, sweetie. But you know there's only one girl for me." He responded, winking in your direction as he also ignored Lee's looks.

"You know who was lookin' for you earlier? Ed. Just think, Jim, he could be your grand baby-daddy!" Bullock howled with raucous laughter, obviously pleased with how red Jim's face was getting with even the thought.

"M-hm, don't worry Dad, Ed's just a good friend." You smiled sweetly. "What's up, Harv? You jealous? You want Ed down on his kne-". You were stopped short with the look 'Dad' shot you.

"Enough, you. I really don't need any more images of Ed doing things to either one of you in my head. Bullock, go do something – **anything** , somewhere else...". You tried to casually back away before he got to you.

No such luck.

"...and you, madam, go do your rounds as my good little girl and watch your dirty mouth, please." He stared at you pointedly as you huffed out an affirmative and took off.

 _Hmph_.

 **...**

"Ah, yes, wonderful to see you again."

...

"No, no, can't stay too long."

...

"Oh yes, Daddy's doing incredibly well."

...

"Hm? Oh no thank you, I don't really dance."

Doing the rounds with these people was monotonous. You felt like you may slip into a coma at any given second. And to tell the truth, you really weren't sure whether that'd be so bad.

"Hey!"

You ignored the shouts coming from behind you as you tried to make it to the drinks table.

"HEYYY!"

You were unsuccessful. Tonight obviously was not your night.

A warm, perspiration-coated hand grabbed your arm, turning you around to face none other than Detective Armstrong.

"H-hey, Kris. How are you?" You smiled sweetly once again, wishing he would wipe his sweaty palms anywhere but your arm.

"I'm good, thanks. I –uh, was calling you for a while. Everything ok?" He rubbed his neck anxiously as he stood. Poor guy really was a sweetheart, but he was just. so. boring.

"Oh, were you? I'm sorry, I didn't hear you." You giggled and rubbed his right arm just above the elbow; your hand lingering, distracting his attention. "Listen, I gotta go. Could you do me a big, big favour and cover for me with my Dad? Please?"

"S-sure, but I –ah, was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me tomorrow? Pick up where we left off after New Years? I just seem to keep missing you when you stop by the station..."

Ah, fūck. You knew you should have chosen someone else to bed at the bells, but you really wanted every drop of someone's attention and he was just the man. I mean, he done the job perfectly well, but at least if he was an obnoxious prīck like the others he wouldn't be chasing you as a 'take home to mommy'-type girlfriend.

"Listen, Kris. You're a great guy-". You were interrupted once more by a loud commotion coming from the front of the building.

Smoke was quickly entering the room from what you could only assume was a large fire by the entrance. Panicking, you grabbed Armstrong by the hand and dragged him off to the side, placing yourself between him and the wall.

What? If someone had was going down first, it certainly wasn't going to be you.

A loud boom sounded, bricks and rubble tumbling from all angles.

"FŪCK! What the hell is going on?" You screeched.

To be perfectly honest, you couldn't care less about what happened to the precinct or anyone in here, but this was your plan. You were going to be the one to bring down the GCPD. You were going to be responsible for the carnage that followed. You were finally going to make them all see who you really were, and what you'd really done in your short lifetime.

"It's ok, baby. I'll protect you." Kris smiled as he squeezed your hand tight.

You internally rolled your eyes. _Ugh, just great. My knight in shining armour is this boring bast-_

A loud shot was heard, the sound ricocheting all around to your head and the space where Kris stood was now vacant. Your eyes shot across the room on instinct and met with a pair of green. Blood stained your face as laughter bubbled from your throat. You no longer cared that your stunt had been stolen. After all, it was being expertly conducted by the best performer of them all.

You dipped down and gathered blood from the open wound in Armstrong's head and smeared it from your lips up your cheeks. You struggled to contain yourself, laughter bursting from your lips as you observed the panic and chaos all around you.

You skipped and danced your way gleefully through the pathetic cops and civilians in the direction of the front of the building. How would you get through the fire? No idea. But you would.

Once at the front of the building, facing the crackling flames, a cold hand shot out and grabbed your waist.

"Well, hello, my dear." A soft chuckle brushed past your ear as his grip on your waist tightened.

You turned around in his arms and grinned. "We meet again, Mr J."

"Come with me, doll."

His hand grasped yours tightly as he pulled you through a gap in the flames. Just before you stepped into the fresh night air, where police and fire sirens were already ringing, Jerome covered your eyes with his hands.

"I've got a surprise for you, baby girl." He murmured into your ear, tracing the shell with his tongue.

Once outside your eyes were uncovered and you blinked away the black spots.

"What d'ya think, Princess?" Jerome shouted into the night air, walking backwards with his arms wide open.

At the bottom of the stone steps lay nine bodies, dead and bound with straight jackets. It didn't take you long to determine that they were all cops; more specifically, cops you had wrapped round your fingers... and cops you had your legs wrapped around once upon a time.

"Jerome?" You questioned. "I don't..."

"Understand? Baby, read the message." He stood boyishly with his hands in his pockets, smugly waiting on your reaction.

You then noticed the red spray-paint on the men's backs.

"B...M...Y...Q...U...E...E...N?" You murmured out the letters sprayed on each jacket.

He held his hand out, grinning at your stunned response. You made your way towards him, arm held out high, smile firmly in place.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Jim raced out the building at your back and tried to grab you, but to no avail. Jerome roughly gripped your outstretched hand and tucked you under his arm, smiling smugly.

"Hahahahaha." You burst into fits of laughter.

"What's the matter, 'Daddy'? Don't cha love the real me?" You continued giggling under Jerome's arm, fluttering your lashes as innocently as possible towards James.

"C'mon, Jim. You must've known that it was her all those years ago. Sitting in a pool of blood, playing with knives whilst Mummy and Daddy lay chopped into pieces on the ground." Jerome kissed your forehead and squeezed your shoulder as he recited the tale of your first kills.

You hummed in contentment, his tale taking you back to that day 9 years ago when you were only 11. Jim knew exactly what happened back then. Poor bāstard defended you throughout –covering up everything and pining it on some made-up serial killer. Therapy, hugs and plenty of love were what followed, and to be honest you did like your godfather more than your waste of space parents. But the fact still remained that you didn't give two fūcks about anyone else until that voice penetrated your thoughts earlier on this evening.

You peered up at Jerome and roughly grabbed his face in your hands. As quick as possible you stuck your mouth on his, smearing the blood over his cheeks as well.

You grinned and giggled as you turned back to Jim.

"Hahahahaha!" You bent over slightly, clutching your stomach. "Let's see if you can catch us, 'Daddy'."

As quick as a flash, Jerome pulled you off with him down a back alley, smacking your ass hard in the process.

"What did I say about calling anyone but me 'Daddy'?" He growled out through clenched teeth.

You giggled as you ran along with him, vowing to make up for your little slip up when you got the chance to be alone.

Gordon remained standing in shock on the stairs of the burning GCPD long after you left. Emergency vehicles, crew, news vans and civilians were everywhere, allowing you both to speed towards an unknown hideout on the back of a stolen motorbike, unfollowed.

"SO, BABY DOLL, YOU DIDN'T ANSWER MY QUESTION..." Jerome twisted round, his previous annoyance gone, and loudly shouted over the sound of the wind racing past. "DO YOU WANNA BE MY QUEEN?"

You grinned at him, holding his stare –not a care in the world about watching the road you were speeding down.

"OH, MISTAH J, I ALREADY AM."

With that you roughly kissed his lips as best you could before you both burst into fits of laughter as you continued down the open road, ready to rule Gotham together.

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **Hello, lovelies.**

 **This is my first time posting on here... mainly because I haven't had the cahonies to do so before. I thought I'd start small with some Jerome. If anyone likes what they read, let me know, and I'll post some more. I have plenty in the archives that I've never felt were good enough to post so :)**

 **Also, this was supposed to be out for Valentine's weekend but I got distracted/doubted myself...**

 **But it's still February and there's Valentine's cards in shops ...and it's Jerome Valeska, so I reckon I'll be forgiven.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Happy Friday!**

\- _Ellie_


	2. The Joker and his Harlequin

**A/N**

 **Firstly, thank you all for reading. Knowing that someone, somewhere, is enjoying my work makes my day! Thanks also to those who followed and favourited. Did not expect that after only one part ^-^**

 **Secondly, hopefully the spacing is alright in this one... It's pretty hard getting it right on the tablet so apologies if it's a tad squashed together.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **...**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Haly's Big Top"

The smooth voice boomed through the tent, captivating the entire audience. You bounced in your seat, full of excitement, as the ring master slowly made his way into the ring.

From where you sat in the third row from the front you could clearly make out that he was a young man with pale skin, red hair and a cheeky smile. His eyes were covered by shadows from his top hat, which completed his red and black circus master costume.

"Are you ready for shock, awe and laughter? Are you ready to be 'amazed'?" He finished his little speech as he jumped atop a large platform, situated just to the left of your line of sight, and broke out his 'jazz hands'.

You giggled gleefully and whooped and hollered, much to the displeasure of the two girls sat beside you. They hadn't been all too thrilled at 'wasting' a Saturday with something as childish as a circus, but had ultimately agreed to come along, so long as you paid for their tickets and fill of junk food.

The acts came out, performed, received their applause and trotted off again. The ring master threw some cheeky comments around, bantering with the audience throughout. Despite your excitement at seeing the acrobats and clowns, you couldn't help but keep your eyes glued to the ring master; his commentary had your stomach hurting from being bent over double in stitches.

Suddenly, the lights went out. The whole tent was submerged in darkness. A bright spotlight shone down on the man in charge, a dark grin spread over his face as his eyes remained hidden under the rim of his hat.

"Laaaadies and Gentlemen, now the real fun begins." He slowly raised his head, his dazzling green eyes revealed, as he surveyed the crowd.

The lights came back up, only lowered, bathing the ring in a soft glow. He pulled a hand gun from the back band of his trousers and tapped it against his chin, as though in deep thought as he began to speak.

"Who here has ever wanted to join the circus? Make people laugh?" He questioned the crowd, obviously expecting no one to answer.

A few people tried to leave but were swiftly stopped by armed clowns. A couple were made examples of -the gun shots ringing around your ears as you perked up slightly in your seat.

"Ah, such a waste of bullets. Please, don't try to leave. I really don't want to perform to a dead audience." He sighed.

"Now..."

He jumped down from his podium and paced back and forth across the ring. "I need an assistant. Raise your hands, come on, don't be shy."

Slowly you began raising your arm, your lip twitching as the dark mind you had kept under wraps for so long began quickly unravelling in his presence.

"Gotta be beautiful... obviously." He smirked as he caught your movements out the side of his eye.

But at his words you dropped your arm. You definitely didn't think you'd fit his beautiful criteria.

Your friends snapped out of their fear induced states and grabbed your hands, holding them down.

One whispered harshly to you. "What the hell are you doing? He's crazy, can't you see that? He'll kill us first now, you stupid bītch."

He had begun moving closer to your seat, now standing right in front of the first row. Even a deaf man would have caught your 'friends' words.

You huffed out a sigh and looked glumly at the stunning psychopath standing before you. He'd never pick you.

"You three. Here, now." He pointed towards your seats and then to the spot beside him with his gun, his smile no where to be seen.

As quick as you could you jumped out of your seat and down beside him. You bounced on the ball of your feet in excitement at being chosen, disregarding the mean words you had just heard. You were never chosen for anything, and here you were being chosen by the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on.

Your friends weren't quite as thrilled; shooting you daggers as they were forcefully dragged to the ring by the clown enforcers.

"This is all your fūcking fault."

"How could you be so stupid?"

More harsh 'whispers' which were hardly quiet given the remaining audience members were so silent you could hear a pin drop.

Your happiness seeped away with their words, the dark thoughts and insecurities you had about yourself taking over. The voices convinced you he'd chose one of them as his assistant and you'd be cast aside.

Just as your smile faded, red hair and green eyes filled your line of sight; his grinning face right before yours.

"Well, hellooo beautiful. I'm Jerome." He trailed his hand up your neck and under your chin, tilting his head as he eyed your face.

"Now, why did you drop that arm of yours? Surely you knew I'd pick someone as gorgeous as you out of the crowd in seconds? Or did you think I'd pick one of these two? Your two 'friends' who I have taken an extreme disliking to?" He smiled darkly before quickly pecking your lips and throwing his arm around your shoulders.

"Hm. You two." He tutted and wagged his gun back and forth in front of their faces, as you giggled, delighted by your current position under his arm. "Why would you try and keep this beauty from joining me? Are ya jealous of her? You should be."

He signalled his men and within minutes your so-called friends were strapped to spinning wheels.

"Please, please, help us."

"We're your friends. Please?!"

They begged and begged, frying the last few nerves you had left. They always went on and on and on. And you'd had just about enough of it.

Stepping away from Jerome, you made your way over to a bag one of the clowns had dumped beside the girls. Jerome didn't anticipate your movements and raised his gun, ready to shoot you if he had to, although it would displease him greatly.

You finally found something that would do and pulled it from the bag. A large roll of duct tape. You quickly tore off strips and gleefully shut their annoying mouths up. It was something you had been dying to do for months. Well, that and stabbing people. You had a particular fondness for knives.

Jerome lowered his gun, bemused by you. You skipped and twirled your way over to him and slipped under his arm once more, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Sorry for interrupting, but they were disrupting the show. As you were, Master." You fluttered your lashes as his mouth curved into a smirk and he resumed his speech about knives, torture and killing everyone else in here.

You were absolutely in your element and at his command twirled knives between your fingers before hurling them at the targets. The targets being the girls of course, not the ones painted on the wheels.

Jerome beamed as he watched you, his new doll giggling happily as each knife embedded itself in flesh, spurts of red flying through the air.

All you needed to unlock your mind and potential was a trip to the circus, a little guidance, and a master just as crazy as you.

...

The show went on in each of the subsequent, unsuspecting towns you moved to and fled from –the police always on your tails.

However, it was now introduced slightly differently.

The clowns would guard the doors, gun fire would ring out and together you'd make your way into the ring. The speakers would boom with manic laughter as Jerome introduced you both, him in a classic red and black suit, you in a matching skintight one.

"Please, give it up, for the infamous Joker and his beautiful Harlequin!

Let the fun begin!"

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to yet another Jerome Valeska one-shot. His crazy ass just wouldn't leave me alone ;), so here ya go.**

 **If you've got any feedback, comments, JV recommendations or you just fancy a chat about all things Gotham then you know what to do.**

 _\- Ellie_


	3. I Spy

"I spy, with my little eye, something that is... **yellow**."

...

You sat at the back of the stupid yellow eyesore, counting the seconds 'til you'd be off and getting back home. You ran the paper for Gotham U. and had drawn the short straw in pinpointing future stars during todays high school match. You were to collaborate with a couple of boring old talent scouts in order to give GU an insight on who to offer scholarships to.

Unfortunately, you also had to travel there and back with a bunch of noisy, rah rah let's go, teens. **It was fūcking excruciating.** Even your Beats™ and Ace Hood's 'Bugatti' wasn't enough to drown them out.

You shut your eyes over and hummed the song to yourself, effectively ignoring the ridiculousness going on around you.

Whilst you sat there, ignorant, the bus was stopped. Gotham's most wanted made their way on to the bus, led by a strikingly handsome ginger with a killer smile... literally.

"I want you all to know this was a very difficult decision for us."

Jerome Valeska began pacing back and forth between the first three rows of the bus, enthusiastically waving his gun around as his voice filled the tin can.

"It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party.

In the end, we decided to skew a little younger."

He whipped round and surveyed the group of mainly screaming girls, a few whimpering boys, and beamed.

"Youth won the day. Hahahahaha." He began rocking back in forth with laughter.

"Sarrry."

He drew the apology out as long as he could and it couldn't have sounded more fake if he tried. The laughter hadn't died from his face before he began jumping up and down at the front of the bus.

"Give me an 'O'!" He was met with stoney silence; the low hum sounding from your headphones providing the only response.

He glanced at you, amused by either your blatant stupidity or your lack of ability to sense tension around you.

The lack of response from the rah-rah's was pīssing him off, however. He held his gun to the roof of the bus and fired, the loud shot merely fading out to nothing in your ears as Rick Ross belted out the chorus and went into his verse.

"I said give me an 'O'!" His eyes flickered over to your still calm figure, your feet tapping lightly on the floor as you continued to enjoy the musical fantasy world you were currently in.

"Ohh." Their quite voices dragged out the letter.

"Give me an 'N'!" He brandished his gun back and forth as he jumped.

"N." Soft voices responded.

"Give me another 'O'!" His smile grew wider as he took in your hair looped up under your baseball cap, your dark smudged eyeliner surrounding your closed eyes, your knees poking through your ripped jeans and your black cropped shirt, quite fittingly telling anyone who read it to 'FŪCK OFF'.

"O."

"What's that spell?" He asked as he made his way up the bus, dragging a hose that had been passed to him by fellow inmates Dobkins and Greenwood.

"Oh NO."

They resumed their screams of panic and dread as shouts of encouragement came from Tweedledee and Tweedledum at the front of the bus.

"Do it, do it, do it."

You slowly cracked an eye, hoping you were almost at the stupid stadium so you could get today over with and return to that bottle of Jack you had resisted the urge to bring with you.

The sight that met you had you bolting upright, yanking your headphones off, smoothing down your hair and smiling gently. What? The sight that met you was a good one –gorgeous Jerome Valeska, grinning right in front of your face.

Obviously you had fallen asleep and were dreaming, otherwise you'd be sh*tting the knickers you were almost certain you'd remembered to put on this morning.

"Ah, well hellll-o, gorgeous!" His face remained right in front of your face as reality began to trickle its way in and you realised this was no dream.

"Nice to meet ya, I'm Jerome."

He stuck his hand out, gripped your wrist hard and pulled you up until you were standing in front of him. He swiftly landed a warm, wet smooch on your right cheek and proceeded to pull you along with him to the front of the bus. He shook with laughter as he sprayed the entire bus and everyone on it with a foul smelling liquid.

The gasoline drenched both your tee and his flame-red hair. You were almost frozen in a state of shock. That still wasn't enough for your filter to kick in though.

"What the fūcking fūck balls is going on here?" You blurted out, gripping his upper arm tight and shaking him roughly.

"Hahahaha. Ouch, woman. Chill out." He pried your fingers loose and secured an arm around your waist as he pulled you flush with him.

"What is going on here, is that these annoying brats are gonna go **kaboom** –up in a ball of flames..."

He glanced down at you, secured under his arm, and dropped the hose. He brought his hand up to move your sticky hair from your face and pinched your chin, pulling it up so you locked eyes.

"...and you, beautiful, are gonna come with me and watch."

He smirked as your cheeks flushed with the compliment.

Despite the situation you were in, you couldn't help but be smug. A man you'd fantasised about, after seeing him around outside the big top, was holding you tight and saving you. Ok, yes, he was saving you from a deadly situation he'd orchestrated, but he was saving you none the less.

As Jerome, Dobkins and Greenwood taunted the teens, you found yourself swirling around in your own thoughts. Dark thoughts. Thoughts you had buried a long time ago. Or so they would have had you believe.

Drawing yourself out of your darkening thoughts just for a moment, you seen him glance and at you and murmur.

"...far too beautifully damaged to burn."

You smiled. You burst into a giggle. The situation you were in was ridiculous. Yet, you couldn't find it in you to care.

These peppy, walking pom-poms epitomised everything you hated about high school. Cliquey, b*tchy, little girls and full of themselves guys. You hated them back then and you hate them even more when you're forced to be around them once you'd grown up.

There were plenty other issues that had played their parts in breaking your mind down over the years, piece by piece, until it was a mass of swirling colours, voices and madness. The counselling had only been a temporary fix, but this? This was a whole other rabbit hole –one that you were more than ready to tumble down.

The more the darkness consumed you, the more you found you liked the idea of watching this bus blow. Reaching your conclusion, your mind finally completely broken, you bounced on the balls of your feet, gripped Jerome's hand in yours and raised your voice.

"Anyone got a light? Ahahahaha!"

 **A/N**

 **Ah, Jerome.**

 **Hope you enjoyed this one** ^-^

 **Lemme know in the comments and if there's anything you wanna see here.**

 **Happy weekend!**

 _\- Ellie_ 💋


	4. When the Sun Goes Down

**A/N**

 **Before we dive right in to this little gem, I feel I should post some warnings.**

 **I would normally include this in a separate chapter but who really wants to read boring shīt like this as an update?**

 **So, yes, this one is rated M for 'if you ain't old enough legally fūck, smoke, drink or drive, then you probably should bow out'. However, if you're not and choose to stick with me from here on out then it's your own fault if the filth corrupts your minds.**

 _ ***adjusts top hat stolen from Jerome and grins***_

 **"Aaaand on with the show!"**

 **Listen to: ** Arctic Monkeys - When The Sun Goes Down

 **...**

 _"And they say it changes when the sun goes down,_

 _Around here."_

You sang to yourself as you wandered around your apartment in downtown Gotham, closing blinds and curtains as you went.

It really did change when the sun went down. Downtown Gotham was always dangerous, but night brought with it more. It didn't help that your apartment was situated just across the street from the private club Penguin owned. The club that all kinds of trouble visited regularly.

You reached your living room windows and stared down at the young woman standing just off the corner.

 _"I wonder what went wrong,_

 _That she had to roam the streets._

 _She don't do major credit cards,_

 _I doubt she does receipts."_

You sang as you tilted the blinds, watching her hanging around in her fishnets and stilettos. You dragged your eyes up the street, observing the fancy cars stopping outside the club. Familiar faces made their way inside, each one more menacing than the last.

You moved to the kitchenette just off the living room and peeked out once more. Members of the infamous 'Maniax' made their way inside. You could see Jim Gordon's ex. Barbara dolled up to the nines and Greenwood drooling after her.

 _"And what a scummy man._

 _Just give him half a chance,_

 _I bet he'll rob you if he can."_

You continued humming along and wandered to your bedroom. Before shutting the curtains you began undressing, the moonlight illuminating the darkened room. You would be sitting by candlelight again tonight, curled up under a mountain of blankets. You hadn't paid your rent or bills yet this month so you would have to make do. You'd just be thankful if you came out the other side with at least a leg intact.

As you stood in your simple black bra and knickers you glanced out again at the Maniax who hadn't quite made it in to the club. You held your pyjama shirt in between your breasts as you sang.

 _"And I've seen him with girls of the night,_

 _And he told Roxanne to put on her red light._

 _They're all infected but he'll be alright,_

 _'Cause he's a scumbag, don't you know?_

 _I said he's a scumbag, don't you know?"_

You reached behind yourself and unclasped the band of your bra, letting the relief of being 'free' wash over you. You closed your eyes as you stood, bathed in moonlight, and quietly hummed.

All at once your skin erupted into tiny goosebumps, even though it flamed with heat. Sparks shot through your body like tiny shocks of electricity, hardening your nipples. Your eyes shot open and you looked down at yourself, bemused. You hadn't felt aroused in a long time. You could only wonder what was responsible for the heat flooding through your body.

You glanced down at the club once more, now noticing more 'Maniax' than before. Dobkins stood off to the side, mumbling to himself by the looks of it, the brother and sister Galavan duo were locked in a deep discussion. _Probably plotting to murder yet another Commissioner._ It was now well known that Theo staged the whole Arkham breakout and charity benefit night. He wasn't fast enough to hurt Jerome, the man he planned to pin it all on, and instead found himself 100% implicated.

 _ **Jerome Valeska.**_

Awfully forgiving if anyone asked you. He was obviously up to something if he stuck by the man who tried to shove a knife in his neck. But nobody ever asked you.

Almost as if answering your calling, the man himself stepped out of the shadows. There was something about him that you'd always found quite attractive. Yes, he had killed a few people, but this was Gotham -who hadn't?

His flaming red hair contrasted with his pale skin, the moonlight highlighting his strong cheekbones and twisted smile.

You felt wetness pool between your legs, your heart rate increasing.

 _Well. Looks like we found out what gets us off, huh. A specific brand of_ _ **crazy**_ _._

 _"He must be up to something,_

 _What are the chances? Surely it's more than likely._

 _I've got a feeling in my stomach._

 _I start to wonder what his story might be,_

 _What his story might be, yeah."_

You continued observing him. The way his smirk grew darker the longer he stood, flicking a lighter on and off. He dropped the cigarette from his lips and all of a sudden his eyes flashed to yours.

You were frozen to the spot, flushed and embarrassed at being caught staring. Yet you couldn't look away. Instead, you found yourself moving closer to the window, breasts pressing up against the cold window, your eyes still locked with Jerome's.

You thought no one could see up to your dark, dingy apartment, but you thought wrong. Jerome couldn't take his eyes off of you. Standing flushed and needy by your window. All doe-eyed and pouty lips. You didn't even realise what a show you had been giving him as you undressed whilst he watched from the shadows. You were perfect. _Innocence, perfect for corrupting._

You watched as he flicked the lighter closed and slid it into his pocket. He continued locking eyes with you, a seductive smirk on his face, as he quite obviously adjusted the bulge in his trousers. You blushed, realising what you were doing and brought your top up to cover yourself as best you could. You turned from the window, closing the blinds as you done so, and berated yourself.

 _What an idiot. One flash of a smile from a hot guy and you're giving the whole street a peep show._

But, it had been a long time since you felt the stir deep in your belly. That warm, fuzzy, frustrating feeling that can only be remedied with attention.

Smiling, you began lighting candles throughout your tiny apartment. You decided to bring your quilt and blankets through to the living room; your bed wasn't the biggest nor comfiest, which is why you often found yourself sleeping on the floor.

As you done so, Jerome was making his excuses to the other Maniax. Patting Theo on the back and winking, he made his way across the street.

 _"'Cause they said it changes when the sun goes down,_

 _Yeah, they said it changes when the sun goes down._

 _They said it changes when the sun goes down,_

 _Around here._

 _Around here."_

You dithered by your bedroom door, wondering whether to peek out your window again. I mean, it's unlikely he'd even still be out there. He was probably already inside the club, making the most of his freedom with some hot circus freak. The thought of another woman touching him caused your blood to boil. He was the only man to have turned you on in years and he was probably already kicking his latest conquest to the curb.

You bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood as you seethed at your own imagination. Your hands which had been grasping the door frame had tightened; pieces of the frame beginning to crumble and pierce your palms.

Then, you became all too aware of a warmth radiating from behind you. A soft growl accompanied a raspy voice.

"Boo."

..

Whipping your body around you came face to face with the object of both your jealousy and desire. Immediately you were backed against the wall, one of his hands tightly grasping your waist, the other wrapped loosely around your neck.

 _"Bet she's delighted when she sees him,_

 _Pulling in and giving her the eye._

 _Because she must be fucking freezing,_

 _Scantily clad beneath the clear night sky._

 _It doesn't stop in the winter, no."_

You shudder as small jolts of electricity zing around your body as he brings his nose to your tilted neck. He inhales deeply before quickly nipping the skin there.

"Tell me, doll face. Was that show just for me or were ya hoping someone else would see? 'Cause I don' like to be anyone's second choice."

He stared directly into your eyes, increasing the pressure on your neck slightly.

"Hm?"

Eventually you regained control over your voice and spoke through laboured breaths.

"All for you, Jerome. You- you're definitely my only choice."

Your breasts heaved under your nightshirt as your breath continued to come out in pants. The things this maniac done to you.

"Mm. Well, don't ya just know all the right things to say." His grip on your neck loosed as he gripped the bottom of your shirt, tracing patterns on the outside of your thighs.

You shivered as goosebumps erupted over your legs and your knickers once again became wet. God, this man was good. Not a whisper from your libido in years and now she's singing like a canary.

"Now, what goes through such a dirty little mind to give a guy an eyeful without so much as a bunch of flowers? Especially a guy who's.. what's the word they call me? **Crazy**."

His fingers moved under your shirt, caressing your stomach and slowly trailed higher. He began squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples with hard pinches. Your legs clenched together as you tried to create some much needed friction. He swiftly opened your legs, placing his thigh between them as you mewled out your disappointment.

He brought his lips to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver in anticipation as he spoke. "Aw, come on now, Princess. Don't beg yet. Save that for when I bend you over."

Strands of his ginger hair fell in front of his face as he removed his leather jacket, tossing it behind him. His shirt followed, giving you a blissful view of his pale, muscular chest. You drew your bottom lip back between your teeth, tasting the blood left there from earlier.

"I thought you'd be deep in some freaky chick by now, Jerome. You're famous around here. Surely you could have anyone." You bit out, the words tasting like poison.

"Mmm. Sounds like someone's jealous."

He stared at you pointedly, tilted his head and pouted. Grabbing the bottom of your shirt he quickly lifted it over your head and slung it behind him. Lowering his head he swiftly captured a hard bud between his teeth and bit down hard. His fingers hooked the side of your panties and slowly dragged them down until they stopped on his thigh. Bringing his thumb to your engorged clit he began rubbing in soft circular motions.

"Now, tell me _ _, why would I wanna be in anyone else when I can be balls deep in a freak like you?" Raising his head from your chest, he smirked darkly before laughing uncontrollably.

He knew your name. He only had a few minutes from the club to here. How on earth-?

He began nipping at your skin, leaving his mark all over your body. The question left your mind as you moaned out.

Heat flashed through your body, your confidence at an all time high. Swiftly, you pushed him back, encouraging him to lay on your makeshift bed for the night, and kicked your underwear all the way off.

Bemused, he let you think you were in control. He placed his hands behind his head as you began working his trousers off.

You took in the large bulge in his boxers and smiled. He was definitely going to have you walking funny tomorrow.

Slowly, you dragged his boxers down his legs, his large cōck springing back and resting against his stomach. You unconsciously licked your lips and leaned down. Taking him into your warm mouth, he groaned. You began slowly; savouring the taste of him. Licking from his balls, all the way up his shaft, you swirled around his head before engulfing him fully. You took him as far down your throat as you could, you could feel him pulsing inside you. His groans and grip on your hair eventually brought your mouth away from him.

"Fūck, gorgeous. Gonna have'ta stop ya right there. I'm not 17 anymore, and I really don't wanna miss the main event."

He flipped you on to your back and hovered over you. Spreading your legs, he peppered warm, open-mouthed kisses over your stomach. He nibbled on your hip-bone, leaving a large red mark on your skin. He lowered his mouth, his lips meeting your lower ones. He parted them, sinking his tongue as far into your tight, warm opening as he could. He swirled his tongue around, tasting you as a starving man eats his last meal. Quickly, intensely, sloppily. And in the best possible way. Writhing against his mouth, you moan out his name, begging for him to give you release.

The minute your begs and pleas reach his ears, his posture becomes stiffer. He slowly rises off you, licking you off his lips. His features are dark, from the glint in his eyes to the smile on his face. His entire being screams darkness, madness, insanity. _And that's just what gets you off._

Crawling up your body, he rests his body on top of you, nestling between your thighs. In an instant, his mouth covers yours. His tongue, warm and insistent, plunges into your mouth, dominating you. You taste yourself on him, the flavour mixing with his taste in your tongue. The thought alone is enough to have you squirming below him.

You grind upwards, seeking him out. He immediately stills your hips, roughly grabbing them in a bruising hold. He thrusts against you, his large member bumping against your clit with every pass.

"God, Jerome. Please. I need you." You cried out, breathless.

"Mmhm, you're so needy, baby girl." He growled out from over you.

Still holding your waist he twisted you round, flipping you over onto your front.

From behind you, you heard him growl out. "On your hands and knees. NOW."

You complied immediately. You could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs, the heat there now uncomfortable, your neediness controlling you.

"Suuuch a good girl. All Bambi-eyed and virginal blush." He lowly murmured the words into your ear as he leant over you from behind, his large hand caressing your ass as he spoke.

"But you're no such thing, are ya?" He swiftly brought his hand down on your cheek, rubbing the sting away immediately afterwards.

"Mm-no, you're a freak beneath the sheets."

Not wasting another moment, you felt him nudge against your entrance.

"Please, Jerome."

Growling out at your pleads, he sunk in fully, stretching you almost to the point of pain. Immediately he pulled out and slammed back in again, grunting at the tightness that enveloped him.

"Fūck, _ _. So fūcking tight." His warm breath panted over your back as you arched it underneath him.

Thrusting yourself backwards you met his hips at their furious pace. You mewled and clawed at the blankets beneath you as pleasure surged through your body, the slight burn from being stretched so far only spurring you on. Every grunt and moan he released turned you on more, his deep strokes hitting your spot each time.

His hands held on to your hips as he continued on at his punishing pace, thrusting wildly. With every roll of his hips you begged for more, his hands grabbing on to your now-stinging ass and kneading the flesh with his long fingers.

The sound of moans, grunting, balls slapping against your ass, and cries of pleasure filled your small apartment as both of your bodies began approaching the finish line. His thrusts became jerky as he buried his head against your shoulder blades. Biting down hard, he ground out three simple words.

"Cūm for me."

His words shattered you, your muscles clenched and released spasmodically, pleasure coursing through your entire body. You began to see black spots behind your eyes, your cries becoming utter gibberish as you praised him over and over. Your tightening pulled him over the edge, his movements became erratic and sloppy as he coated your walls in thick, warm cum. He groaned out as you milked every last drop from him, until he felt himself soften slightly inside of you.

He rolled you both over so you now lay on his chest. Panting, you tried to move to clean yourself up, only to be held firmly in place.

"Nuh-uh, you ain't going anywhere." He sleepily murmured out.

"I- I'm gonna make a mess, Jerome. And I don't wanna sleep on it..." You trailed off.

Groaning, in an annoyed manner this time, he got up and grabbed the kitchen roll from the kitchenette counter.

"Here." He wiped you up, which only slightly embarrassed you, before balling up the tissues and throwing it over to the corner.

"Now, c'mere and sleep or, so help me, I'll slit that pretty pink throat of yours." He grabbed you by the shoulders and tucked you in to his side, throwing the blankets over you both.

His words didn't trouble you, tomorrow you'd likely be beaten to within an inch of your life for the money you owed anyway. What was another threat, especially if it came from someone who fūcked you like a pro?

"Oh, and babydoll? You ain't living here after tonight. You're comin' with me. No arguments." He yawned around his words, his fingers digging into your arms as he held you tight.

You smiled against his chest and laid a soft, barely there kiss there. Your heart began to quicken again with his next words.

"I could use a freak like you."

 _"Well, they said it changes when the sun goes down,_

 _Over the river going out of town._

 _And they said it changes when the sun goes down,_

 _Around here."_

 **A/N**

 **Jerome Valeska, ladies and gentlemen.**

 **...accompanied by the Arctic Monkey's greatness.**

 _ ***takes a bow before Jerome takes his hat back***_

 **So, what did we think? Are ya still with me? Or have we all scattered for cold-showers?**

 **Let me know if you've got any comments/feedback/requests/criticisms or if you just wanna chat.**

 **If you liked it, let me know and click those little favourite/follows right down there -.^**

 **Happy smutty-Sunday!**

 **See you next time, maniacs.**

 _\- Ellie_


	5. You Gonna Act All Shy?

The window groans as a cold breeze blows through it; its presence welcome in the roasting tin can you call home.

Goosebumps prickle your exposed skin, your blanket more or less kicked off your body.

You toss and turn; unable to sleep properly in this summer heat. You starfish across the bed, in only your long grey tee and pink panties, in the hopes that the breeze will come through again and cool your body.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, your tiredness trumping the heat. Your conscious woke slightly, your body still tired. From outside your bedroom, in the small living room just beyond the hall, you heard a loud creak, a few small bumps and clatters, and a few curse words to go along with them.

You remained where you were, hoping sleep would take you again. You hadn't been sleeping well lately because of the summer heat.

A few minutes later, a small creak alerted you to your bedroom door opening. No further sounds were heard.

Slowly, you turned on the bed slightly and signalled with your arm; patting the space on the bed beside you.

"C'mon in, Jerome. It's about time."

After a few shuddered breaths and a few more creaks of complaining floorboards you feel the bed behind you dip as he makes his way into your bed.

You mumbled to him in your half awake state as you grabbed for the thin sheet to throw it over your now slightly chilled legs.

"Took you long enough. Where've you been, J?"

You grabbed his hand and dragged it over yourself with what little energy you could muster.

"Sorry, gorgeous. Took a while for the bītch to go down tonight."

His voice sounded hoarse, like they'd been rowing again, as he entwined his fingers in yours and stroked your hair with his other hand.

You could feel he was half sitting up, staring at you, instead of lying down and dozing off.

You turned around and faced him, blinking away the sleep. You did indeed find him sitting up, fully dressed, and gazing down at you; various emotions swimming in his eyes.

"Whatcha doing dressed? C'mon, it's suffocating in here."

You began grabbing at his shirt, pulling it up in an attempt to help, despite your half asleep state.

"I'll get it, _ _."

He softly pulled your hands away and removed his shirt. The moonlight bounced off his pale chest, highlighting the small spattering of red hair that trailed down his abs to the waistband of his jeans.

"Jeans, Jerome. It's too hot." You mumbled as you rolled back over, facing away from him.

You felt the bed dip and move as he removed his jeans, his belt clattering against the wall as he threw them across the room.

"Happy now, baby girl?" He whispered in your ear as he pulled the cover over his legs, pulling you closer to him.

"Mm-hm."

You snuggled backwards, his warm, comforting chest pressed against your back.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as he nestled his face in the crook of your neck.

"Nn-mm, so, you 'kay, Jerome? You need me to go over there and knock her drunk āss out?" You mumbled out, placing your hands over his.

He sighed and chuckled into your neck. "Na, she's not worth it. I'm all better now, _ _."

 **...**

You were sleeping peacefully when your mind suddenly became active; vivid pictures flooding your brain.

You imagined your best friend, the one you secretly loved and adored, trailing kisses along your neck and chest. Your body flushed, heat pooling between your legs as his lips found the most delicious spot, right above your nipple in the fullness of your breast.

Your mind was addled, reality merging with dreamworld, as you hastily shoved down your hot pink panties you'd worn to bed, before kicking them fully off. A soft breeze licked at your skin, hardening your exposed nipples further. When your shirt had risen was beyond you, in fact, you weren't sure if it really had.

You submerged yourself once more in the dream; the images, the touches, the heat feeling oh so real. Your subconscious half let you believe this was real, whilst your sensible half reminded you that you were dreaming. Even in a state of sleep she manages to spoil part of the fun.

Nonetheless, you can't help but love every intense second. After all, this is the only way you'll ever experience Jerome. He'd been sleeping beside you for years, 'sneaking' in (if his loud footsteps could be called such) when he'd finished another fight with his mom. You'd always hoped and wished he'd feel even the slightest bit of love for you that you felt for him, but you knew he didn't. He couldn't. He'd only ever see you as that little girl in pigtails who always came crying to him when she skinned her knees.

You shut out your annoying, usually always right, inner voice and allowed yourself to indulge fully in the sinfully delicious licks and nips that dream Jerome was lavishing on you. And damn, if he didn't do it well.

His lips found purchase on your hip bone; nipping and sucking until moans flowed from your throat. Smirking, he moved further down, biting lightly on the soft curls above the promise land. I mean, you groomed yourself as often as necessary, but you weren't about to go full 'no grass on the playing field'. You, in no way, wanted to rock the pre-pubescent look.

Your skin tingled, goosebumps breaking out across your abdomen, despite the heat in the room.

His hot mouth descended further, latching on to the small bud currently pulsing like your life depended on it. Sucking down hard, your body jolted off the bed, your stomach tightening with every surge of pleasure rained down on you. Long, slow, languid licks followed; your hips thrusting up to meet his tongue as he gradually moved towards your hole.

His tongue plunged in and out at a rapid pace, before slowing and stilling. Eventually he picked up pace again before slowing to a brutally teasing pace.

He knew exactly how to work your body.

How to tease you into submission.

How to have you writhing and begging for release.

And damn, if you didn't want to plead to the heavens... to whatever deity... to the fūckhot man between your legs, for release from this sweet, sweet torture.

Moans and curses flowed from your opened, parched mouth. His hands reached for your behind, holding your āss cheeks up in the air as his tongue flicked in and out of your hole quickly, occasionally circling your throbbing bud.

His hands pulled your cheeks apart, one of his fingers tracing patterns on your puckered hole. Your breathing hitched as he pressed occasionally on the tight skin, your wetness dripping round to lubricate the whole area.

Slowly, his finger pushed in further; the whole 'taboo' of āss play exciting and turning you on further.

Damn, if Jerome really plays like this then there's some lucky girls out there.

You unwittingly mumbled your thoughts out loud, the sound of your own voice waking you slightly.

"Mmm. What's that, baby girl?"

A deep, gravely voice broke through your revere. Your eyes shot open, hoping Jerome hadn't caught you pleasuring yourself whilst he slept beside you. You were sure he'd be disgusted by the thought of you and leave you here alone.

Instead, you found his head of red hair down between your splayed legs, a soft sheen of wetness over his chin. He licked his lips slowly, tasting you whilst he moved up your body.

You suddenly became self-conscious at him seeing your naked body. You never imagined he'd actually see you hot and wet, nevermind that he was clearly loving every second of it.

He cocked his head to the side as he held himself above you, his boxers lost somewhere along the way. You could feel his hot and heavy cōck resting against your lower abdomen.

"What's up, gorgeous? You gonna act all shy now you've decided to open your eyes?"

He leant down and trailed his tongue across your lower lips before dipping into your mouth. His tongue probed your mouth, encouraging you to respond. You snapped out of your unbelieving 'this cannot be happening' state and immediately fisted his red hair as you thrust your tongue right back in his mouth. No way did you expect this to happen tonight, but you weren't going to turn down a golden opportunity when it was handed to you on a red-hot platter.

"Fūck, Jerome."

You hissed as he didn't spare a second in thrusting his long, thick cōck into your sopping wet heat.

He groaned out as your tightness enveloped him, holding him in a vice grip.

"Damn, beautiful. Why haven't we been doing this all along?"

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **So... whatcha think?**

 **May have a second part if I think there's enough smut to go around.**

 **Ah, I love a good Jerome smut-fest ^-^**

 **Anyone who says they don't are clearly lying ;)**

 **Got any comments, questions, requests, recommended books, or anything else? I'm happy to chat.**

 **If ya liked it, why not share the love and click that lil heart down there and favourite/follow ;)**

 **See ya next time, maniacs.**

 _-_ _Ellie_


	6. The A Team

**Quick warning: ** Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse and dependency, depression and grief.

If you're good with this, you may continue.

 **Listen to:** Ed Sheeran - The A Team

 **...**

Curling yourself up amongst the pile of blankets you had collected, you tried to control how your body convulsed and shook with each breath you took.

 _"White lips, pale face,_

 _Breathing in snowflakes,_

 _Burnt lungs, sour taste._

 _Light's gone, day's end,_

 _Struggling to pay rent,_

 _Long nights, strange men."_

You took in large gulps of air; each of them feeling like thousands of tiny shards of glass embedding themselves in your throat. Your body shook violently as you coughed and hacked, the cold night hurting your chest further. You tried to focus on counting the boxes piled up at the other side of the large storage room. In theory it should work the same as counting sheep, and anyway, any distraction for your mind was a good distraction.

 _"And they say,_

 _She's in the Class A Team,_

 _Stuck in her daydream,_

 _Been this way since eighteen._

 _But lately her face seems,_

 _Slowly sinking, wasting,_

 _Crumbling like pastries,_

 _And they scream,_

 _The worst things in life come free to us._

 _'Cause we're just under the upper hand,_

 _And go mad for a couple grams,_

 _And she don't want to go outside tonight._

 _And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland,_

 _Or sells love to another man._

 _It's too cold outside,_

 _For angels to fly,_

 _Angels to fly."_

A few others made their way in to the large room, scanning the faces of those who were already here. You tensed, ready to put up a fight for what little warmth you had as one stumbled over to you. You needn't have worried when he pulled up his cap. Slumping beside you, Les pulled out a small bag and motioned you up. You met Les little over a year ago, around that time when you realised there was such a thing as lower than rock bottom. He was a veteran, now down on his luck, snubbed, and forced to share the same hell as yourself. You'd been splitting what you had with him whenever you'd meet, which was only every few weeks since you had to move around.

You sat up and wrapped a blanket round his old, hunched shoulders as he rifled through his pockets. Eventually he found what he was looking for and the night descended into chasing highs; smoking just enough to take the edge off.

 _"Ripped gloves, raincoat,_

 _Tried to swim and stay afloat,_

 _Dry house, wet clothes._

 _Loose change, bank notes,_

 _Weary-eyed, dry throat,_

 _Call girl, no phone."_

Upon waking, you began bundling up your blankets and wrapping them around your shoulders. Les was still out so you left one with him.

You made your way outside, into the harsh morning light. You wandered along until you found one of the corners you regularly frequented. Lowering yourself carefully, trying not to hurt your frail body anymore than necessary, you huddled under your cap and blankets and held out your worn old takeaway coffee cup.

You hated that this is what you'd become. You had to rely on the kindness of strangers and endure your fair share of both verbal and physical abuse from those less understanding.

You knew you'd gotten yourself in to this mess in the first place, but once you fell down that hole there was little you could do to claw your way out of it.

You had began seeking an escape from reality when Jerome had been ripped from your life by Theo Galavan. You had plotted revenge on his sister, hoping that losing her would cause him to suffer as you were.

Your plan worked and Theo did indeed suffer, but you found your grief didn't ease any. If anything, it hit you harder once you no longer had something to focus on.

You huddled tight under your thin blankets, your back hurting after only an hour on the ground. You'd collected around $2.60 on the work run, but you hoped they'd all be happier come home time and you'd maybe make a few more bucks. After all, that'd be the difference between a can of cheap lager for dinner, or a few cans and a greasy filled roll from the dingy shop under the tracks.

You kept up your position all day and night, pleading for some change from those more fortunate.

Oh how the tables have turned.

 _"And they say,_

 _She's in the Class A Team,_

 _Stuck in her daydream,_

 _Been this way since eighteen._

 _But lately her face seems,_

 _Slowly sinking, wasting,_

 _Crumbling like pastries,_

 _And they scream,_

 _The worst things in life come free to us._

 _'Cause we're just under the upper hand,_

 _And go mad for a couple grams,_

 _And she don't want to go outside tonight._

 _And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland,_

 _Or sells love to another man._

 _It's too cold outside,_

 _For angels to fly,_

 _An angel will die._

 _Covered in white,_

 _Closed eye,_

 _And hoping for a better life._

 _This time, we'll fade out tonight,_

 _Straight down the line."_

Come darkness you made your way to the underpass, stopping in at the small shop that was rarely frequented by anyone but someone in your position. There was never very much on the shelves but the guys in the shop at least tried to push food to go along with the drink. There were rarely any takers. Alcohol took the edge off. Enough would numb the pain and stave off the cravings. Plus it was cheaper than eating. It's not like there was enough to buy a three-course meal and fill your belly.

You hadn't earned much more since this morning. You had been given a small coffee from a kind stranger who obviously hadn't wanted you to pīss money down the drain, but the heat from that cup was long gone.

You headed towards another old abandoned building nearby. There were so many in Gotham that it wasn't hard to find shelter, however you had to choose your nights carefully. Pick the wrong place on the wrong night and you'd wind up as collateral damage from a drug deal gone wrong or a mob 'friendship' gone sour.

Wrapping your blankets round your legs and shoulders once again, you settled in for the night. You cracked open one of the two cans you'd purchased and chugged it down. It tasted like pīss water, not that you could really tell with your destroyed tastebuds. Plus, without any food in you the warmth and the buzz would spread through your body quicker.

You lit the single cigarette you were also able to buy as you cracked open the second can. Your stomach rumbled and ached as the liquid filled it.

With the cans long gone and the butt of the cigarette the only thing left to show from your day, you curled up under the blankets. They probably smelled of stale sweat, beer and urine, but you could no longer smell them, or yourself for that matter. Not that you cared. You were just wasting the days away until your weak heart, beaten black and blue, through and through, finally gave in.

How much pain, heartbreak and abuse could one heart take?

Surely not much more.

 _"And they say,_

 _She's in the Class A Team,_

 _Stuck in her daydream,_

 _Been this way since eighteen._

 _But lately her face seems,_

 _Slowly sinking, wasting,_

 _Crumbling like pastries,_

 _They scream,_

 _The worst things in life come free to us._

 _And we're all under the upper hand,_

 _Go mad for a couple grams,_

 _And we don't want to go outside tonight._

 _And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland,_

 _Or sell love to another man._

 _It's too cold outside,_

 _For angels to fly,_

 _Angels to fly._

 _To fly, fly,_

 _For angels to fly, to fly, to fly,_

 _For angels to die."_

Stuck in a restless sleep, your mind whirled with terrible images and noises. Your breathing lapsed, your heart slowing and skipping the occasional beat.

Jerome's pale face flitted in and out, his mouth moving but no words coming through. You were trying desperately to grab on to him, just to hear his voice one more time and hold him tight.

You eventually managed to lock your arms around him. His voice became clear, ringing in your head as you focused on his perfect, unmarred face.

"Looks like we've got ourselves in a bit of a mess, huh?"

You focused on his plump pink lips, wondering why your dream wasn't allowing you to hear the three little words that would kill off the final pink piece of your heart.

You were so malnourished, sore and strung out that your body felt weightless. You felt as though you were floating.

You smiled at Jerome as you felt his arms encase you. A small, soft kiss met your forehead as you closed your eyes, enjoying his comfort for one last time.

"Go to sleep, babygirl. I got ya."

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **Soooooo...** ***hides behind a pillow incase anyone throws rocks***

 **I started this at the weekend when I was streaming Ed 24/7 before I went to his gig. A** **-Mazing by the way.**

 **I also got major feels writing this, which never, ever happens(!).** **Now I'm'a have to write something super upbeat or we're all gonna be in a slump** **.**

 **What's your take on the ending?** **I realised once I had finished writing that it could be taken a few ways.** **So I decided not to clear anything up and get some feedback.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it. Votes, comments, and general chit-chat about Gotham always welcome.**

 **I also want to thank those of you who have favourited and followed since last time! It means so much to me. Plus I'd like to thank Prinzessin Mia for my first review on here ^-^. You made my day! Hope you liked this one too.**

 **Addio, maniaci.**

 _\- Ellie_


	7. You Got It, Puddin' Part 1

It was mid-afternoon. Free time. Your favourite time of the day. You could curl up and re-read a book, twirl and twirl until you grew dizzy, or even stir a little between the other inmates and start a fight or two.

 **Arkham Asylum.** Home to you for the past 10 years.

You were brought in on your tenth birthday, after you used the knife you were supposed to cut your cake with for unscrupulous reasons.

You had had just about enough of your foster 'siblings' and decided life would be a lot simpler if one of the other boys kindly died. You may or may not have waited until the final round of 'happy birthday to you' to blow out the candles and swiftly shove the knife deep in his neck.

It was peaceful for all of 4 seconds.

Disappointing to say the least.

They actually tried to save him.

Surely they were sick and tired of Conner as well, you thought to yourself.

Anyway, long story short, you were declared 'insane', thrown in the juvenile facility at Arkham and left to your own thoughts.

You were moved to the adult area on your sixteenth birthday. Nothing like moving in with a bunch of even crazier bāstards for your birthday. They weren't necessarily worse than the younger lot, the guards just gave less of a shīt in here.

Thankfully you landed on your feet. No one tended to bother you once word of your 'activities' in Arkham juvie spread. Amongst a lot of things, no one wanted to lose their bālls like poor Evan had. To be fair, he had been warned. He'll think twice about stealing pudding cups again.

You couldn't say you missed the outside world all that much. You hadn't had much freedom to enjoy before here. How can you miss something you've never had?

 **...**

You flipped and flopped between different conversations, memories and thoughts in your head as you stared at a picture you'd hung on the wall beside your favourite seat. It was of window, looking out onto a lush green countryside, with plenty of sheep and cows dotted around. It was better than the actual view of a high wall with barbed wire around the top.

Not long later the space opposite you was filled by an energetic, young inmate with red hair. You'd seen him carted in last week along with a few other poor souls. He was... _cute?_ Yeah, cute. You hadn't seen cute in a long while. Not in here.

You tilted your head, much like a dog did when it feigned confusion, and stared at him. He beamed a bright, crooked smile and held out his hand.

"Hi, gorgeous. I'm Jerome." Wagging his eyebrows up and down once he looked pointedly at his outstretched hand.

 _Hm. Maybe I'll let this boy keep his balls._

He was definitely very handsome... cheeky... and probably a helluva ride. You hadn't enjoyed much of that, being stuck in here. The young guards were pretty green and the others were too damn old.

Immediately, you jumped up on the armchair, making your decision and crossing your legs underneath your backside and finally spoke to someone other than yourself.

"Hi, handsome. I'm _ _." You beamed back, head still tilted.

You ignored his hand. You'd end up jumping him in the day-room.

Sensing your hesitation, he chuckled and pulled it back, brushing back a few fallen strands of red hair as he done so.

"What's'a beauty like you doin' in a hell hole like this?" He tapped his finger on the arm of the chair to his own rhythm.

Smirking slyly, you quickly tilted your head to the opposite side and beamed at him.

"Aw, you flatter me." You shrugged your shoulders and continued. "Eh, it's home. Whatcha in for, Red?"

"Haha, not for long, gorgeous. Not for long." He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair once again. "Killed my mom. No biggie. Deserved it."

"Hm, I'm sure she did. Parents are overrated." You nodded in agreement.

"Ya know, Jerome, I've decided that after 10 years, a girl could probably use a friend in here. See, the guards, they don't care. And they're not so, hm, good...". You copied his brow-wag and ran your finger over your lower lip slowly.

"...where it counts. You reckon you could be that 'good' friend, Jerome?" Smiling sweetly, you raised a single, manicured brow. Yes, manicured. You had a lot of free time.

"If someone tries to hurt me, would you protect me?" You fluttered your lashes, the picture of innocence.

He broke out into laughter, his smile large and lighting up his perfect, pale face.

"Sure thing, _ _. I'll be your 'friend'." He paused and moved forward, his knees were now almost brushing against yours.

"You gon' be my partner in crime? Have my back?" He spoke in a low, sinfully gravely voice, his warm breath fanning over your rosy cheeks.

Biting down on your lip, you attempted to hide the dirty smile that was trying to break on to your face as you spoke.

"Mmhm. I'd rather have your front though." You grinned deliciously, the smile on his face spreading from ear to ear.

"Oh, boy." He chuckled and glanced down to your lips.

"You're naughty." He glanced back up to your eyes, deep forest green meeting _ _ _ _.

Slowly, he inched his lips closer to yours, placing a long, chaste kiss to your warm, welcoming mouth.

"Come on, gorgeous. Let's start planning our escape." He stood and held out both his hands.

Without a second thought, you grabbed both outstretched hands, entwining your fingers.

He pulled you flush to his chest as he studied your happy, giggling form.

Beaming, you tilted your head up and whispered, only slightly manically, into his ear.

"You got it, puddin'."

 **A/N**

 **Ciao, maniaci.**

 **Lack of updates is half down to me being my lazy-āss self, and half down to me planning my holiday. Worth it, in my opinion ^-^.**

 **This isn't the end of these two ^. There will be a part two, and maybe three, to follow. I'm sure you're all lookin' for some more action too.**

 **Thank you for the favourites and follows since the last chapter. You have no idea how happy it makes me when I realise there's actually people out there enjoying my scribbles! Thank you!**

 **Happy Sunday.**

 _-_ _Ellie_


	8. Idiot -You Got It, Puddin' Part 2

**Bored.** That's what you were. Sick and tired of the same old, same old.

It had been a few months since Jerome Valeska crashed into your busy headspace.

You hadn't been 'friends' long when you had both been sprung by none other than the future mayor, Theo Galavan. You knew that was his plan. He had the current one... a bit tied up. He'd be mayor in no time.

Theo had praised you all countless times. Told you how wonderful you, in particular, were. How successful you could be if you went solo.

Yes, Theo trusted you. The emphasis being on 'you'. He didn't fully trust the others; not enough to divulge any secrets. You, though, he chatted with often. He held a soft spot for the girl with the sparkling _ eyes and _ hair, always thrown up in a messy bun.

You didn't fully trust him... or his reasons for springing you. How could you trust a man who didn't want repayment for your freedom?

Jerome was loving life. He worshipped the ground Theo walked on. Ate up every slither of praise; like his words were chocolate-covered cotton candy.

Jerome was an idiot.

 **...**

You sat in the lounge, thinking about Jerome and how he admired Theo almost as a father figure. You had warned him to watch his back but he would have none of it. Those conversations often ended with a gun being cocked from one end of the room whilst the other threw everything and anything at the others head. You usually always managed to hit him square in the face with something heavy. He never dared fire that gun.

Your thoughts were disturbed by a throat being cleared nearby. You cracked an eye open and glanced up from your upside down position on the couch.

Theo sat on the long coffee table in front of you, pulling his trousers up at the knees as he did so. You chuckled internally at his little quirk.

"Whaddya want, Theodore?" You quipped, swinging your legs back and forth over the back of the couch.

His eyes trailed up your legs, taking in the large expanse of skin on show thanks to gravity's effect on your skirt.

"Are ya gonna drool over my thighs all day or tell me whatcha want, sugar?"

You remained sitting upside down with the one eye open whilst he made a feeble attempt to compose himself. _Men._

"Ahem. Yes. Have you given any thought to what I said before, _? About my countless offers? _, you could do so much more, be so much better, cause so much chaos, if you just ditched the- the damn clown." His tone changed slightly towards the end; becoming more hostile.

You quickly twisted your body round and leaned your face in close to his.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now why would I listen to you? I don't think you know what you want, Theo. You want me to go it alone, yet you also want me around. You want me to stop fūcking Jerome and crawl into your bed, yet you don't want a 'partner'. You wanna be bad, but be seen as good. You're too fūcking complicated, Theo. And I'm tired of listening to your shīt. Go find someone else to confide in."

As you made to stand up and leave, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down. Finding yourself unintentionally straddling him, you froze up. Using your shock to his advantage, he grabbed your face and forced his mouth on yours.

A split second was all it took for you to wake up and shove his hands and mouth away. Balling your fist, you smashed it into his face... _repeatedly_.

"And he's **my** fūcking clown."

Standing up and brushing your skirt down, you left him on the table with a nice red and purple welt forming around his eyes. A broken nose was him getting off lightly.

You made your way up to the room you shared with Jerome. You were in need of some serious rough and tumble to get all of your frustrations out.

You found Jerome sitting on the small plaid armchair in the corner of your room, staring down at his clasped hands.

Before you could even speak he was across the room like a flash, slamming you into the door, consequently slamming the door shut too.

Groaning at the pain of the handle cutting into your spine, your response was slightly delayed. Clearly he had seen the scene downstairs and misread it.

Before you could collect yourself, your hands were pinned above your head and a furious Jerome was breathing heavily, directly in front of you.

"You take me for a fool, _? You think you can fūck around on me and I won't slit that pretty pink throat of yours? Huh? ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!"

His hot breath flooded your senses, his anger only fuelling your own.

You began laughing, howling even, right in his face.

"Hahahaha, screw you, Jerome. I'll fūck you up before you even think about using that pathetic little knife on me."

You shoved his hands off and shouldered him out of the way before crawling on to the bed.

"You should've stuck around downstairs and taken a few shots at Theo when I had him writhing in pain." You spat at him as you lay on your front, kicking your legs in the air.

A few minutes passed before the bed dipped behind you. His body crawled over yours, his entire weight pressing down on your back, as his arms rested on either side of your head.

"You- You didn't want him? You're just for me? Ya promise?" His voice murmured out, softer than usual.

You chuckled and turned around in his arms. "Oh, Jerome. You're an idiot."

Placing a chaste kiss on his cheek, you brushed your nose back and forth over his. "But, you're **my** idiot."

Leaning up, you met his mouth half way, kissing him with all you were worth, before his lips made their way to your collarbone.

Grinning into your neck, he whispered in between soft nibbles.

"You're an idiot too, _. You've gone and got yourself stuck with me."

 **A/N**

 **Hey there, maniacs.**

 **Please don't kill me for the lack of updates. It's been a busy 'ole time in Wonderland and I've been lagging behind.**

 **Think I was a bit off my game with this one but I'm'a post it anyway and you can lemme know your thoughts.**

 _\- Ellie_


	9. No One's Getting Out Alive -YGIP Part 3

Peering into the large rectangle mirror, adorned with fairy lights, you pursed your lips and applied another coat of lipstick. **Red.** Your favourite colour.

You fluffed up your hair, adjusted your breasts in the dark crimson bra you wore, and slipped your feet into your high black heels.

 _Show time._

 **...**

Grace ft. G-Easy 'You Don't Own Me' began blasting from the speakers in each corner of the room. Wisps of smoke curled around your toned legs as you sauntered out to the middle of the stage where your love awaited.

Tall, slim, and polished to perfection. You loved working the pole on the main stage, and the crowd loved it too.

Easing into your routine, you slowly gripped it at waist and shoulder height, wrapped a single leg around the base and began to twirl around it. The beat would stay steady for a few minutes before it broke and a specially selected remix would be cut through.

As your body continued spinning and writhing with the pole, your arms and legs continually switching their positions and keeping your body movements looking smooth, a flash of red hair from a far away booth caught your eye.

It looked familiar, but you couldn't stop and stare. You knew there was no way it could belong to who it reminded you of. He was gone.

 _~.~.~ Flashback ~.~.~_

You made your way downstairs in your pyjamas _(read: plain tee and Jerome's boxers)_ to find Jerome, Theo and Barbara hatching their next plan around the coffee table.

As you approached, Jerome's smile widened at your appearance and he grabbed your arm, pulling you down into his lap.

Their conversation never faltered as Jerome began tracing patterns on your legs. You added your tuppence-worth in occasionally; Theo glaring harshly every time you opened your mouth. Clearly you were no longer flavour of the month. Jerome, though, seemed to have taken your spot as he was playing the lead role in the upcoming performance.

You were glad Jerome was finally getting his place. He really did put on a great show.

 _~.~.~_

You watched from behind your masquerade mask as Jerome put on the performance of a lifetime. He had Bruce Wayne by the neck, knife nicking it slightly, as he wore a beaming smile on his face. He looked rather dapper in his magicians suit and top hat. You couldn't wait to take him to bed. He'd be even more in the mood after plenty of Brucie's blood had been spilled.

Right on cue, as predicted, the call came through from Jim Gordon.

You chuckled as you made your way towards the stage and your handsome maniac. He was busy telling that fool Gordon his ridiculous demands.

"...the dry cleaning I left at Mr Chang's. Be careful, the man is a crook, and... mm, I don't know, a pony."

His laughter filled the room as he spied you walking towards him. Blowing you a kiss and winking, he continued on.

"Uh, you got 10 minutes or I start killing people."

Then, things went wrong. Well, for everyone except Theo.

Your mind replayed that scene over and over for months afterwards. All of a sudden that bāstard Theo had made it to the stage, twisted the knife around and stolen away the only life you ever gave a damn about. He had looked straight in your eyes and smirked as you cradled Jerome's lifeless body in your arms. Your mischievous joker was gone in an instant; before you could even make it the few paces across the stage.

Everything that followed was a blur. The GCPD, Oswald somehow bailing you out after a suspicious deal with Gordon, living in a rundown apartment above the strip club and working off your forever debt to Oswald in said club.

Your hair was no longer _. Instead it was dyed a pale silver, and tousled in long waves. You had etched a few tattoos in tribute to Jerome over your body, although you kept them covered with makeup during your shows. They were simply for you. Visible marks of your loss.

 _~.~.~ End of flashback ~.~.~_

The sudden drop in the beat brought you back to reality and back to your performance. You picked up the pace and began sliding your way down to the ground, your back to the pole and legs stretched backwards on either side of it.

You began crawling across the stage, giving sultry glances to the punters at the front of the stage. Flipping over, you writhed in the cash on the floor as you slowly dragged the zip of your black hot pants down.

Raising yourself up into a sort-of crab, you continued until you were able to throw your legs over in a slow somersault of types and resume your standing position. You'd gotten pretty flexible working here.

You continued your unzipped hot pants descent and bent over to slowly peel them from your ankles, giving the crowd a good view of your ass in the matching crimson g-string you wore.

After kicking them off to the side, you jumped back up on the pole and moved your body around in time with the music. You spun and twirled, kicked and writhed, pouted and climbed, moaned and teased. You worked your body as hard as you could, pushing yourself to perform the most difficult positions in the book. The crowd lapped it up, the cash flooding the stage.

The beat dropped once again, the lights flashing all around you like lightning, signalling a song change. You'd be up here for as long as management wanted. And Oswald liked watching you... _a lot._

You continued your routine through into a third song. Teasing the crowd, you played with the straps of your bra. Slowly slipping them off your shoulders, you turned your back to them and shot a 'come hither' look to the many faces surrounding the stage.

You reached your hands halfway up your back and slowly released the clasp. Dragging the bra down, you let your full breasts fall out. Still facing away, you teased the crowd with the occasional hint of side boob.

You began turning, preparing to give the crowd half of what they paid to see.

All of a sudden, arms encircled your waist and your body was pressed tight against a hard chest.

You glanced up, preparing to shove the handsy patron off and call security. They didn't like it when you done their jobs for them and beat the guys to a pulp.

Angry green eyes met dumbstruck _ ones.

 _There was no way this was-_

 _Was he really-_

You were shuffled off the side of the stage and into a private booth to cheering and cat calls from the audience. Clearly they knew who this was and were definitely not going to kick up a fuss.

"Well I'll be damned." You muttered out as you took in the tall, pale, red-head sitting before you.

Sure, you'd heard the rumours about his body being cryogenically frozen... then stolen... but you had stopped paying them mind after that. It hurt too much to think that your man hadn't even been given a proper goodbye.

His eyes sparked with mischief as he lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.

"Dance. Dance for me, doll." He murmured as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

Taken aback by his sudden appearance and lack of recognition, you climbed on to the circular table and began working the attached pole.

It was your job. And if he was back, Oswald surely knew about it. He'd order you to give him whatever he asked for.

It hurt that he didn't recognise you, but you'd never been brought back to life before. Who knows how the mind works after that.

Defeatedly, you swung your legs around the pole and slid down on to the table. Stalking forwards on all fours, wiggling your āss from side to side, you stared hard into his eyes.

He averted his after a few seconds and focused them instead on the sway of your breasts as you climbed into his lap. A dark laugh rang around the booth; a laugh that wrecked your body, firing up every nerve ending you possessed.

Throwing yourself into the lap dance, you let the feeling of pleasure from dancing for **your** Jerome flow through you and guide your movements. You ground against his crotch, finding him as equally turned on, and fought with yourself not to unzip his pants.

Moving to the beat, you slowly turned and bent over, wriggling your āss in his face. A large, calloused hand was brought down on your right cheek.

A small whimper left your lips as a loud groan left his.

Normally you'd have broken any customers arm, face, possibly neck who touched you in a private booth.

 _You wouldn't be pressed up against any one else so tightly, though. Would you, _?_

"Damn, baby girl. Why does this feel so familiar?" He moaned out as you continued; dragging your crimson g-string to the floor. You were a stripper after all.

Turning around, you straddled his thighs and began grinding against his covered, straining erection.

"Fūck. What's your name, doll? Have I been in here with you before?"

You moaned and continued your quest for sweet, sweet friction between your legs.

"I- No. You've never been here, Jerome." You panted out as you unbuttoned his shirt, hastily shoving it down off his shoulders.

Fūck it. Your morals never seemed to stick around long where he was concerned.

"You know me though. The-". He panted, flipping you over onto the couch so you were below him, his shirt falling to the floor in the process.

"The moment I stood in front of you, you knew. Why are you so familiar to me?" He almost shouted the last words out, frustrated with his apparent amnesia.

He began nipping at the skin on your neck; biting and then licking the marks to soothe them. He completely bypassed your breasts; making a beeline for the juncture between your thighs.

 _Well, I suppose if I'd just been resurrected I'd fancy some cōck, so who am I to judge?_

He paused in his decent. His head hovering over your hipbone and the black marks which decorated it.

You groaned when you felt him rub the remaining make up off.

"'Property of Joker'?" He smirked and locked eyes with you.

"This 'Joker' know that his pretty little kitten is going to be moaning and begging for more of my cōck? Huh? He lets a little thing like you outta his sight for even a second?" He chuckled darkly.

"Who is he then? This 'Joker' you belong to? Would I know him?" The tone of his voice sent chills down your spine. It was the same jealous, obsessive one you'd heard once upon a time, many years ago.

Chuckling, you leaned over and grabbed the box of tissues under the table. Swiftly wiping off the make up as best you could, you watched as he drank in your body.

Littered across your chest countless times were the small words 'ha'. A playing card lay across your right shoulder; the Joker adorning the face. Your favourite by far was the simplest and most meaningful; a cursive 'J' which lay over your heart. Jerome had tattooed it himself when you had found yourselves not-so-legally inside a tattoo parlour late one evening.

His face paled even further, if that were possible, at the sight of the last one. Recognition flitting in and out of his eyes.

"I- I- This can't be... _?" He stuttered out a jumble of words, his body not moving an inch off of you.

A large grin broke out across your face as you tangled one hand in his soft, fiery hair and reached down to pull his zipper down with the other.

Gazing into the face of the man you thought you'd never see again, you giggled gleefully as you spoke. "Welcome home, Joker."

With that, hard, punishing kisses met your lips. Vying to make up for lost time, Jerome wasted no time in discarding his trousers.

There was no time for soft and gentle. He knew exactly who you were and exactly where he had to be. Deep inside of you.

He smirked as you moaned at the feel of his thick, hard cōck nudging against your clīt.

Without warning he adjusted himself and thrust in, stretching you to almost breaking point. Groaning, he pulled out and immediately slammed back in. It burned, yes, but you had waited a long time for this. You never imagined you'd feel him again. It was the most delicious burn.

Jerome was rough, raw... completely unhinged.

Back scratching, lip biting, thigh gripping, hip bruising.

Jerome might've been dead, but what you were doing was simply existing. Neither of you were living.

 **This** was living.

There were dents in the walls, rips in the couch cushions, and clothes strewn everywhere. Jerome lay on the circular table with his eyes shut, sweat matting his hair to his forehead. Body covered in a sheen of sweat, cōck limp and sated, fingers tracing patterns on your skin. Curled into his side lay you; deliciously sore, sated and sticky.

"Ya know, everyone here has probably seen your tīts, doll."

You hummed. "If there regulars they've probably seen a lot more."

A dark laugh came from his throat as he pulled you in tighter. "Well. I guess no one here is getting out alive. Ha ha ha ha."

 **...**

 **A/N**

 **Happy Hump-Day... literally ;)**

 **Decided not to keep you all waiting too long for the next instalment. Plus I couldn't put this one down so :D. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.**

 **Think we're probably done with these two for now. What do you all think?**

 **Got some more *fresh* stuff in the works, but let me know if you'd like to see another part of their story.**

 **Ciao maniaci.**

 _\- Ellie_


	10. I'm Not Gonna Kill Ya

_...I'm_ _just_ _gonna_ _hurt ya really, really bad._

 _Jerome_ _ **X**_ _Joker_ **_/_ **_Monaghan_ _ **X**_ _Leto_ _crossover_ _anybody?_

 _Um,_ _hell_ _yes!_

 _._

Buzzing. **Buzz, buzz, buzz.** That's all you could hear. Like waking up to find yourself inside a hornets nest. In fact... it felt like you had!

Screeching at the sharp stinging you could feel through your body, your eyes snapped open and your body lurched.

You didn't make it far. Your body slammed back down on the metal table you were strapped to.

The sharp stinging stopped at the same time as the annoying buzzing. Raucous laughter taking its place and filling the dimly lit room.

"Hahahahaha. You're finally awake, doll. You've got good timing; we're just about to get started on that pretty little face of yours." A cheery voice called out from somewhere near your legs.

Your head was pinned to the cool metal with some kind of strap, preventing you from glancing down towards the voice.

The stinging in your body had subsided to a slightly numb burning.

"Wha-what's going on? Where am I? Who are you? What do you want?"

The cheery voice chuckled and filled the room once more. "Ah, so many questions. Why don't you ask yourself why you're here, _ _?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I- I don't know..."

"Mmn. Blown your chance, gorgeous. You know exactly who I am and what I want."

Slowly, a mans face looms into view, hovering close to your face.

"Know me now, love?"

A short gasp leaves your lips as your mind flutters with recognition. Messy red hair, boyish laugh, cheeky smile, maniacal tendencies.

"Jerome Valeska." You growl out in a low voice.

"Ah, so ya do remember. You'll also remember what I told you before I left. Right, _ _?" He smirked as his warm breath painted over your cheeks.

"You told me you'd be back. You told me that if she ever took you away you'd come back **for** **me**. You never did. Six years, Jerome. You left me with him for 6 whole years." You fought back a few tears as your voice broke towards the end of your outburst.

Shaking your head as much as possible whilst being restrained you stared directly into his eyes.

"You weren't there when I needed you; when he had his grubby little hands on my neck. You left."

Sighing, you tried to twist your arms free from whatever held you down.

"Let me go now, Jerome. Whatcha gonna do with me all tied up? Kill me, huh?"

"Hahahahahaha. Oh, no. I'd never kill you. You're my girl. Your new, pretty little tattoos make that very clear." Jerome's eyes flicker up and down your body where your clothes had been cut away to let him permanently mark you.

A shiver creeps up your spine as he took in his work. You always were responsive to him.

Snapping his eyes back up, he continued on as if he hadn't just been eye-fūcking where the fresh ink lay.

"No, I'm just gonna make you happy. Drown out all those negative thoughts and fill your mind with laughter. Hahahaha."

"That's what you want right, _ _? You said you'd always choose me." Jerome moved around, his face now upside down and his grin larger than ever.

"I-... Yeah. Against my better judgement, yeah, Jerome, you're what I want." You sighed, defeated eyes flickering over the face you had dreamed of seeing again for years.

His eyes lit up with joy as you uttered those words. Clapping his hands gleefully, he skipped out of your field of vision and reappeared not 30 seconds later, holding up what looked like a large set of jump leads.

"Now, this might sting a teeny tiny bit... do try not to move too much."

"What the fūck, Jerome?! No! Let me go! You'll kill me!"

Terror filled your eyes as you writhed against the restraints.

"Aw, shush. I'm not gonna kill ya, _ _. I'm just gonna hurt ya really, really bad. Hahahaha."

In a split second your whole body was on fire. Crackling, white shards flashed across your mind as your eyes closed in pain.

Wisps of memories shot past your closed eyelids, some slowing down long enough to give you the gist of a picture, some others whizzing past, unidentifiable. Heat spread through your body, flames licking at your skin, causing unimaginable pain.

Images of a young, freckled face boy with red hair and a girl with pigtails in her hair played in your mind. You watched as the boy helped the young girl up, dusting dirt off of her knees and wiping tears from her cheeks. Anger flashed in his eyes as he comforted her. Her drunkard father had just thrown her out of their trailer for the night... again; punishing her for the lack of money he had to buy methylated spirits.

The memory flitted away as more electricity crackled and lurched through your body.

"Aaaaaargh. N-nnooo."

Your screams filled the small, stuffy room as Jerome cackled.

"Now, princess. Just a lil bit more. Daddy will make it all better." Jerome murmured close to your ear.

"We'll be so good, baby. Nothin' will stop you and me."

Another few pictures floated before your eyes. You, rushing over to your best friends trailer, only to find it gone. His mother had gone on a major bender, sold their trailer and taken Jerome away.

You then watched as a 19-year old you slumped to the ground in the hideout you used to share with Jerome. The place where you slept when your father kicked and shoved you about. Your eyes were sunken in, skin bruised and cut. You watched as you fished out a bottle of vodka you'd nicked from the cupboards and a couple of joints you'd talked someone into giving you on tick, and proceeded to get off your face.

Cries and whimpers left your throats as the flames began cooling down and your mind started to clear slightly.

One last memory came in to view. Of the same night as before, only now it was the middle of the night. At about 3am a now mainly sober but stoned, angry girl made her way to her fathers' trailer.

Small giggles burst from your lips as Jerome began unstrapping your arms and legs from the table.

You paid no mind to what was happening to you as you reminisced.

An axe. That's what had been beside the trailer door. It was almost as though someone wanted it to happen. As though it was fate.

Less than an hour later, a blood-stained, crazed girl emerged from the door of the trailer, axe slung over her right shoulder.

Laughing to herself, you watch as your younger self wandered off into the darkness, preparing her defence for when the cops come looking.

You slowly blink, your eyes focusing on the grey ceiling above you. Sitting yourself up and swivelling your legs around, you stare over at a slightly-concerned Jerome. Leaning against the wall, he watches you carefully, unsure of your reaction.

Sauntering towards him, a bubble of laughter escapes your lips.

"They never did convict anybody for that waste-of-space's murder. Pathetic cops."

Gripping Jerome's collar, you smashed your lips against his own, hard.

Jumping up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he caught you under your thighs.

Bringing your lips to his ear, you growled out lowly. "Don't you leave me again, Jerome. Don't make me have to kill you too."

You finished your statement by biting down hard on his ear, before grinding your hips against his.

A combination of a yelp and a moan left his lips as he marched you back over to the metal table.

Lowering you down, he crawled over your body, nipping and kissing your exposed midriff.

"Never, gorgeous. It's just you and me now. No one's gonna get in our way." Jerome growled out between feverish kisses.

You heard his belt hit the floor as he raised himself above your body. A quick flick of a hidden knife and your remaining clothes were as good as gone.

He hovered over you, darkened eyes boring into your own as he sunk down, groaning; more than ready to make your back arch off the table in a completely different way.

.

 **A/N**

 **Hi there, stranger.**

 **It's been a while, huh?**

 **I- Well, I don't really have an excuse I can give you. Things have just been tough.**

 **I've totally neglected this, even though ideas keep popping in and out of my head.**

 **I suck (hey-o!), and I'm sorry for that. Forgive me ^-^?**

 **Not sure I liked this one much... Lemme know whatcha think?**

 **Until next time, maniacs.**

 _\- Ellie_


	11. Fūck, Fūck, Shītting Fūck

_Unedited AF, but I wanted to post tonight_

~.~.~

Fūck.

Fūck, fūck, shītting fūck!

This was **not** happening.

~.~.~

"_ _, get your backside down here, now!" A loud roar bellowed from below as you were called for breakfast.

Stuffing everything in your oversized black bag, you raced down the stairs, hopping your way into your beat up Vans™ at the bottom.

Making your way into the dining room you realised you had stayed in your room a lot longer than you'd thought. Everyone else had just about finished eating and were heading about their business.

"Good morning, my dear. Late night, was it?"

A cocked eyebrow accompanied the sly remark made from behind the Financial Times as you plopped into your seat. The man only retired to his coffin for about an hour at a time and couldn't understand those who actually **liked** sleep. _Wānker_.

"Mornin' Uncle T."

Ignoring him on the whole, you waited whilst some supposedly hired help Theo had procured poured coffee in your mug and scurried back to the kitchen to whip up your daily eggs and bacon.

Jerome sat to the right of you, shovelling eggs in his face as he probably had been for the past hour. He barely spared you a glance whilst there was food on the table.

"I need you two out recruiting again today, _ _. You think you can handle this clown all day?" Theo signalled towards the usually handsome man with egg yolk dripping down his chin.

"Uh, actually Uncle T, I'm not feeling great. Can we rain-check til tomorrow?"

You averted your eyes from his all-knowing ones as you took a sip of strong black coffee.

Bile immediately began to rise in your throat at the first taste. Quickly gulping, you swallowed it back down as Theo peered over at you.

"You do look very pale, _ _. Perhaps a day in bed is what the doctor ordered." He nodded thoughtfully.

He was a caring man in his own way. Theo had taken you in when your parents had had enough of you and kicked you out. Theo had 'taken care' of them and you honestly couldn't have given less of a fūck. They never wanted you anyway.

One of the maids brought over a tray laden with crispy bacon and fried eggs with runny yolks and laid it in front of you. The food looked amazing, but the instant the scent of fried food touched your nose you were heaving like you'd just downed a tray of Sambuca shots.

Bolting from the room, you stumbled on your way to the nearest bathroom. Had this have been a cartoon, Theo and Jerome would now be staring at a _ _-shaped hole in the wall.

Retching and heaving noises were all that met Jerome's ears as he waited outside the bathroom. He certainly wasn't about to ask to come in. He wasn't that clueless.

"Jerome?" A voice drawled from the end of the corridor. "Make sure _ _ goes straight back to bed. Look after her and bring her anything she needs. No one else sees her."

With a quick turn on his heels, Theo made his way towards his office, leaving Jerome to wait and then hide you. Yes, hide. If there was one thing did not like, it was sickness. Sickness was taken as a weakness and the Galavan's were anything but weak. Hence, no one would even hear a sniff of your current predicament if he could help it.

"You ok, doll?" A sharp rap came at the door. "You can't have much left in you now."

Ah, the ever subtle Jerome.

"I'll be.." cue retch "...out in a minute."

 _Yeah, this was definitely happening._

~.~.~

"You good in there or have you melted away?"

The voice sounded muffled and far away, probably something to do with the mountain of blankets covering every inch of your body, including your head.

"Go 'way, J. I just wanna be left alone." You mumbled out.

Suddenly the blankets were ripped off of your head and a smirking upside down face peered at you.

"Well hello there, gorgeous. Your face is on fire, _ _." A sharp poke to the cheek followed before he continued. "Fancy repeatin' that for me now you're not buried alive?" He raised his eyebrows and waited on an answer.

Groaning, you tried to wiggle further under your remaining blankets.

"Just wanna be by myself, J. I'll see you later, yeah?"

With that you rolled over, facing the wall, away from Jerome's probing eyes.

A few minutes passed in silence before he let out a loud huff and you felt the bed dip behind you. Moulding his body to yours you felt a soft kiss being placed to the back of your head.

 _Big softie_.

~.~.~

 ***Flashback***

"UNCLE T!"

Your voice bellowed through the halls as you tried to find him.

"I NEED THE KEYS FOR TH-"

You stopped in your tracks at the sight that met your eyes. Before you six of Gotham's craziest bāstards were bound in your very own living room.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Got yourself quite the collection here, Uncle Theo."

You wandered down the line, sizing them up, before stopping in front of the grinning ginger one.

Smirking, you let your eyes trail up and down his body.

"Hiya, handsome."

A sharp cough brought you out of your revere. Slowly and purposely swinging your head round to look at Theo over your shoulder, you pouted.

"Can I keep this one, Uncle T? Pwitty pwease." Fluttering your lashes, you tried to charm your uncle.

He was not amused.

"Didn't you need something, _ _?"

Dangling the keys to your favourite ride, he shot you a pointed look. Skipping over, you grabbed them from his outstretched hand and beamed.

"Love you, Uncle T."

Continuing skipping, you past an amused Jerome. Pausing, you turned and smacked a kiss on his left cheek before winking and skipping away. You didn't bother waiting to be reprimanded by Theo.

You were looking forward to having him around.

~.~.~

A dream of a pleasant memory broke you from your slumber. The feeling of being half asleep didn't last long. A horrible sensation radiated through your body. Your palms became clammy, heat rushing up your chest, flushing your face and making you queasy.

A large palm rubbed soothing circles on your stomach as you lay curved against Jerome. The action caused a sudden wave of fear. Sitting up quickly, you wondered how you'd found yourself here.

Well, you knew how and why. Jerome had fairly quickly commandeered your attention. Soon he was in your head, your bed, and in your knickers. You'd like to pretend you made him chase you, but who the fūck would believe that.

A rough, gravely voice rumbled from behind you as the arm remained tucked round your waist.

"What's gon' on, _ _? You've been jumpy as fūck." A sigh followed before mumbling under his breath. "Galavan's never get sick, huh?"

His attitude grated on your last nerve as you snapped round to face him. Seething, you growled through gritted teeth.

"I'm not sick, Jerome. This whole damn thing is your fault, ya hear me?" You jabbed your finger into his chest to further emphasis your point. "All. Your. Stupid. Fault."

With that, you made to get out of bed and get the hell away from him. A hand shot out, gripping your upper arm in a painful hold, keeping you on the edge of the bed. Jerome sat behind you, his other hand tilting your bed sideways, peering at your face with an unamused look.

"There's only so much shīt I'll take, _ _. You better watch how you talk to me. Galavan or not, I will kill you." He murmured into your ear, his hot breath washing over your skin.

Sighing, you shook off his grip and turned to face him. He might act tough but he knew you'd give as good as you got.

"Talk to me, _ _. Wha's going on? Ya sick of me now? Every time I touch you, you act like I've electrocuted you. I mean, I know we're into some kinky shīt but we're not there yet." Cocking his head to the side, he flashed a cheeky smile.

Groaning, you figured it was time to face reality. This **was** happening, and he had to know. This wasn't something you could keep to yourself.

"J. I- I don't know how to say this-". Taking a deep, shaky breath, you thrust your bag towards him and looked away, waiting for him to explode.

"Uh, I don't get it... Are you telling me you spent $300 on new earrings instead of stealing them? Cause I don't care if you wanna be by the book, baby."

Confused, you looked at his hand and seen an old receipt in his hand. _Dumbass_.

Yanking the bag back from him, you rummaged around inside, looking for the wad of tissues you stuck in there earlier.

"Not that, Jerome. This."

Finding what you were looking for, you held it up in the air. A long, pristine white stick with a blue cap on the end; your future emblazoned on the small window.

"Congratulations, Valeska. We're gonna be fūcked up parents."

 **A/N**

 **Hey guys,**

 **How've ya been?**

 **I've been M.I.A. for a bit... but I'm back with a bang. Well, with the consequence of a few bangs (?).**

 **Anyway...**

 **Until next time, maniacs.**

 _\- Ellie_


End file.
